


until I had you on the open road

by mercuryhatter



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Driving, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Other, Road Trips, Sex in a Car
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-05-01 17:33:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19182505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercuryhatter/pseuds/mercuryhatter
Summary: when I was stuck in traffic and Halsey said "my hand wrapped around your stick shift" I felt that





	until I had you on the open road

Crowley was doing 130mph on the otherwise deserted country road, even faster than his city usual by virtue of not needing to rearrange London traffic. Aziraphale was all for efficiency— the Arrangement, after all— but one felt that it wasn’t necessary to get back to their seaside cottage at _quite_ such a clip. 

 

“Dear, won’t you slow down?” Aziraphale tried, in the same polite yet pointed tone that used to banish demons (well, one) from his shop when his tax deadline was coming up and he really needed to attend to his spreadsheets without a body draped over his shoulders. 

 

“What for?” Crowley answered breezily. Aziraphale pursed his lips and considered. If he pressed, eventually Crowley would likely slow down for him. Obnoxious he may be, but Crowley wasn’t in the habit of truly denying Aziraphale much. 

 

On the other hand, sun-warmed and wind-tousled from the open windows, a peaceful smile quirking his lips, Crowley did look particularly charming. And as Aziraphale’s fingers dug into Crowley’s knee while they took a turn at speed, he thought that possibly there was another way to resolve the problem.  With an effort, he gentled his hand on Crowley’s leg and slid it slowly inward. 

 

At first Crowley just turned his smile sideways to Aziraphale, fondness softening it further. Then Aziraphale pressed onward and upward and Crowley’s eyes narrowed. 

 

“Angel—“ he said suspiciously, but cut off with a small noise when Aziraphale seized the moment of acknowledgement to seize something else. 

 

“Eyes on the road,” Aziraphale said mildly. 

 

“It’s like that, huh?” 

 

“Dearest, I have no idea what you mean.” For Aziraphale’s part, he was gazing out of the passenger side window as if his soft fingers weren’t dexterously working at the fastening of Crowley’s trousers. Crowley huffed, but from the corner of his eye, Aziraphale could see that there was a blush rising on his cheekbones that he was certain the sun hadn’t put there. 

 

As Aziraphale worked Crowley’s trousers the rest of the way open and set about sliding his hand into Crowley’s underthings, Crowley pressed determinedly on the accelerator. They took another turn, sharper this time, and Aziraphale clenched his hand tightly around Crowley’s cock, punching a breathless noise from him. 

 

“I did ask you to slow down,” Aziraphale said, still looking calmly away from Crowley. 

 

“Yeah,” Crowley wheezed. The car slowed, just barely, but Aziraphale’s grip loosened. A small miracle and his palm was slicked and he began to move it, too slow, too loose, listening with satisfaction to Crowley’s breath growing erratic. 

 

“Mmh,” Crowley managed, hands flexing and clenching on the wheel. “Aziraphale.” 

 

“Yes?” Aziraphale stroked once with just the right pressure and a perfect twist of his wrist, and the Bentley swerved violently. Crowley’s head thunked as it hit the steering wheel in frustration, but the Bentley slowed further. Evidently, the car had decided that Crowley was in no state to call the shots anymore, as it straightened back into its lane and proceeded at a sedate 70. 

 

One of Crowley’s hands left the wheel and gripped Aziraphale’s leg, twisting in the tweed of his trousers. Aziraphale covered it gently with his free one, finally turning away from the window. He smiled at Crowley, who was looking at him with wide eyes, his sunglasses pushed up into his dark hair.

 

“Assszs--” he tried, giving up quickly when his voice left him on the sibilant. He abandoned all pretense of driving as Aziraphale’s hand moved more quickly, turning to tuck his head into Aziraphale’s shoulder, trying and failing to muffle his strangled gasps. 

 

“Yes, love,” Aziraphale murmured, touching his lips to Crowley’s hair. “Go on.” 

 

Biting the fabric over Aziraphale’s shoulder as he cried out, Crowley did. 

 

Aziraphale vanished the evidence before it could touch the upholstery and patted the Bentley’s dashboard in thanks as he wrapped his other arm around Crowley’s shoulders. 

 

“Has anyone ever told you,” Crowley said, still out of breath, “that for an angel, you  _ really _ don’t play fair.”

 

“Almost daily, I believe,” Aziraphale said. He plucked the sunglasses from where they remained pushed up on Crowley’s head and transferred them to the glovebox where they wouldn’t poke him as Crowley clung. “But he usually mentions as well that he loves me for it, so I don’t mind.” 

 

“Well I do,” Crowley mumbled, almost too garbled to hear, but it nearly always was for this sort of thing, and Aziraphale nearly always heard anyway. 

 

“And I you,” he said, smiling when Crowley swatted at him weakly. The Bentley drove on, oblivious, as the two sat curled together in fond silence. 

 

“But you know, you aren’t exactly encouraging me  _ not _ to speed,” Crowley pointed out after several moments. Aziraphale’s laugh rang through the car. 

 

“Why don’t we let the Bentley take the rest of this trip, then,” he suggested, and Crowley smiled slyly, glancing down to Aziraphale’s lap. A snakelike tongue flashed along his lips, almost too quick to see. 

 

“Yeah, all right.” 


End file.
